Biography Bookshop

They're not vanishing, just moving further east on Bleecker--all the way to Cornelia Street. Their new place at 266 Bleecker, across from the still-vacant Zito's Bakery, is set to open sometime this week. It's shaping up quick, with walls of bookshelves already half-filled and French doors that will open onto the street.


the new place, "bookbook"

Though I'm glad they managed to survive, I'll miss them from Bleecker's western end. There's one day of the week when my travels take me by Biography, and I always stop to browse and often buy among their open-air tables of great books at incredibly low prices.

Luckily, they're not leaving this spot until January, and the two shops will co-exist until then.



Rumors about their move began a year ago, when Kate/Jack Spade announced a takeover of their neighbor's spot. In June, the bookshop confirmed the rumor with signs in the window, posted here.

Biography has occupied this prime corner for nearly 25 years. Since they moved in, their end of Bleecker has gone from warm and neighborly to cool, glassy Rodeo Drive East, packed with multiple copies of Marc Jacobs stores and other high-end chains. In fact, it's Jacobs who will be taking their place next year, right across from the Magnolia Bakery.

Prominently advertised sales of the Sex & the City book helped attract hordes of cupcake munchers into the store--whether they spent any money is a question.


Sex & the City tourists browse between cupcakes & dildos

For awhile, there was hope Biography would stay. In February, the owner told New York, "I talked to our landlord a couple of weeks ago and I said we needed to extend our lease and he didn’t really say no... we both assumed that I wouldn’t be able to afford what Ralph Lauren is affording. Or maybe even they’re not affording it."

But the ubiquitous Marc Jacobs is affording it. Whatever the rent is, it's high. Wrote The Observer, "the new tenants at the former Biography Bookshop can look forward to paying eight times the lease owners Chuck and Carolyn Epstein signed ten years ago," on a street where some retailers are paying $80,000 per month.



Without Biography, there will be no reason left for me to walk down this end of Bleecker--and I am not alone in that sentiment. As one employee told The Observer, "The locals have no reason to walk down this street anymore, I mean, who wants a thousand dollar purse?” (A customer added accurately, "The neighborhood will be a retail wasteland hellhole without them.")



The new location will be bigger and better organized, with an expanded selection. I'd like to say I'll visit all the time, but I rarely pass through that end of Bleecker. My weekly walk--and my bookshelves--will be less alive without them. I'll have to find another path.

*Everyday Chatter

Shuttered icon Vesuvio will at least remain a bakery--but will the angry neighbor be happy about continued food smells? [Eater]

John Strong packs up his freakshow and leaves Coney. [ATZ]

Mosaic Man attacked by drunken middle-aged men on Tompkins Square Park. [NMNL]

On the scene of an EV murder. [EVG]

Fat-unfriendly review of JC Penney draws ire from the Times. [NYT]

How to beat Bloomberg. [RS]

Keep time with the clocks of Yorkville. [FNY]

Native name for Manhattan--and favorite of Walt Whitman--appears on subway sign. [NYS]

Bagatelle-Lure

As I showed in my tour of the Meatpacking District's lost leather locations, what used to be The Lure is now Bagatelle, that site of infamous bacchanal brunches, where guys who work in finance get together with girls who work in fashion to flaunt the burning of their bail-out packages.

Since I can't find any photos of The Lure, I thought it might be fun to pair descriptions of their Pork party along with photos of Bagatelle's brunch party. Perhaps some frisson will emerge from such a mix. All quotes are from Guy Trebay's 1999 Voice article The Other White Meat. What a difference a decade makes.


photo: NY Times, Michelle V. Agins

"If you've been living on Mars, you'll want to know that the Lure is a large and intentionally grungy leather and s/m bar in the meatpacking district with a permanently installed slave-training cage, handcuffs suspended from the ceiling, and a predominantly gay male demographic. Tonight's more various crowd stands as a kind of testament to millennial gender blur, and the signifying power of costume."


photo: Nightclub City

In that cage, a boy "hung by his hands, wearing nothing but a loincloth and a crown of thorns. Oh, and several buckets of cow's blood...purchased at a nearby meat market."


photo: Guest of a Guest

"There'll be some mighty unusual objects headed in rectal directions this evening, including an electric device called a Violet Wand. This novelty insertion, which occurs about 2 a.m., follows a series of $5 per person spankings."


photo: Steven Ekerovich, Guest of a Guest

*Everyday Chatter

Man on the street Tim Murphy works out with David Barton at the Astor Place "mega-gym palace," a place for people with style who "don't want to go to a place that looks very un-stylish." [NYM]

Yet another peek-a-boo, I see you, shit-and-shower boutique hotel coming to town--and on the Bowery. [EVG]

When yunnies attack (each other)! [Gothamist]

Don't miss seeing Katie Couric spliced with Britney's bush--on view at PS 1. Apparently, it's good, old, kid-unfriendly fun. [CR]

The guy who took a Meatpacking sex club and turned it into a luxury lounge is taking over the Hog Pit. [Grub]

Who's painting portraits of Dash Snow all over downtown?

from salim's flickr

5 Rose's to Jamaica

I got an interesting comment today, saying that Krystyna, formerly of Five Rose's Pizza, "has semi-retired and now lives in Negril Jamaica where she still makes the best pizza on earth! You can find her at the 23-7 Bar on the beach in Negril happily making pizzas and sipping Pina Colodas! See you in Jamaica!"

Could it be true? Krystyna had planned to return to the East Village after a vacation in Poland--has she really gone to Jamaica? And not the one in Queens.


from my 5 Rose's post

This "food and sports" blog states that: "23/7 is a sports bar owned by a New Yorker named John who said F*ck it, I'm moving to Negril. Its located right on the beach and has all the sports needs of Americans and Europeans... The New Yorkers will be happy to know that they moved a retired pizza lady from NYC out there to cook authentic NYC pizza available late into the night."

I had to know for sure.

I called 23/7 in Negril and spoke to co-owner John Maire, who confirmed the rumor. John lived in the East Village most of his life. He ate at the 5 Rose's for 20 years and even delivered pizzas for Krystyna. She cooked for his wedding. With the neighborhood turned to "bullshit," John got out. He brought Krystyna with him, convincing her that the beaches of Negril were a lot warmer than Poland.

John says the pizza is still excellent and made with yeast he brings down from Moishe's Bakery on Second Avenue. And Krystyna is happy. She got on the phone with me and said, "Jamaica is better for me. I love it here. Not like New York--forget it, Honey!"

Forget it, indeed. Take a look at Krystyna's new view from this "Safe Haven for Sinners":


from Queen of Subtle's flickr

Black Acid Co-Op

At Deitch Projects in Soho I wandered through Jonah Freeman and Justin Lowe's "Black Acid Co-op." The Times called it "an immense, labor-intensive, maniacally contrived walk-through environment. A warren of some dozen rooms, interiors and passageways, it includes a burned-out home methamphetamine lab, a red-carpeted gallery of pseudo-artworks and a hippie haven."

That sums it up, but the emotional experience of walking through the installation goes deeper. Quite simply, it fills you with delicious dread.



Moving from room to room, stepping through holes hacked in the walls and, in one case, through the back of an open refrigerator, is to walk through a vivid dystopia, with all of that world's attendant anxieties.



From a freaked-out wig shop, you go through a newspaper-strewn hall into a meth lab, into a trailer that's been burned from an apparent explosion. It stinks of charred plastic and foam. Another room is covered with filthy carpet remnants and peeling paint.

Even though you know it's "only art," your gut tells you to get out. These are the places where people are tied to radiators, tortured, and ritualistically slaughtered. Get out--before the owners come home.

The flimsy floor thumps with footsteps--and you jump.



Some relief from anxiety can be found in a red-carpeted, white-walled art gallery, but you don't want to linger here--it feels too clean, not charged enough. So you plunge back in. Down to the basement. It's a Chinese herbalist's shop, but nothing makes sense here, either. A rack of T-shirts are airbrushed with lurid pornographic images. Are those glass implements dildos or medical devices? What here is real?



A postmodern spook house for grownups, "Black Acid Co-op" feels like a trip into the mind of a sociopath. Each step takes you deeper into the pockets of misery, confusion, and violence that lurk there. For a little while, you have stepped into another person's brain. It's not a pretty place to be--but it will take you out of your skin.



See more photos of Black Acid Co-Op here

*Everyday Chatter

Another Burritoville rises from the dead--next to a former Burritoville! On 23rd and 8th Ave... If they all move back to their old vicinities, maybe the dead Bald Man spot in the EV will be a new old Burritoville?


As the Brooklyn ice-cream wars rage on, Mister Softee says ice-cream haters tend to be "New Age parents whose kids can’t seem to do anything without them." [NYT]

Welcome back Fedora! [Eater]

Reverend Billy makes the ballot for mayor of NYC. [LM]

SuperDive's frattiness beloved by TONY. [EVG]

Advertisers get even more obnoxious--as DirectTV is dropping these football-related "welcome mats" on everybody's doorstep across the Village: